


Why Would You Stand When You Could Lie

by DefaltManifesto



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blood Magic, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Fix-It, Reconciliation, Swearing, The Fade, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 07:46:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13700037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefaltManifesto/pseuds/DefaltManifesto
Summary: Aveline doesn’t get a chance to say any of them because Isabela vaults past her, leans over the table and yanks the Inquisitor forward by the front of her tunic. Cullen is the first to reach them but the Inquisitor holds up a hand. He frowns but stays back. Aveline notes with a bit of respect that like her, his hand stays on the hilt of his blade.“This isn’t a negotiation,” Isabela says. “You’re going to fix this.”





	Why Would You Stand When You Could Lie

**Author's Note:**

> This is a super self-indulgent fic written as a fix-it to make me feel better about my leaving my Hawke in the Fade :( It's got some cliches on it and is relatively whump-y. I hope you like it anyways! Comments are loved. 
> 
> Title from In Harm's Way by Amanda Palmer, which is a very good song about the refugee crisis and I highly recommend you give it a listen. It's one of the few songs that brings tears to my eyes.

[The tumblr](http://defaltmanifesto.tumblr.com)

 

Hawke isn’t an idiot. She knows she can’t fight off Nightmare and survive, so she waits for the rift to seal behind her and bails. It’s strategic really. Nightmare lives in fear. It’d benefit him if she’s scared for as long as possible so he barely tries to stop her from running. She makes her way into the caverns. She’s always hated the dark, and nowadays caverns remind her of Corypheus so there’s an added fear for Nightmare to soak up and delay killing her. While she runs, her mind races with everything she’s ever learned about the Fade.

In all honesty, none of it helps her. That’s information on keeping your spirit and soul safe, not your body. Of course, some things would apply. Keep your shields up, don’t make deals with demons, don’t use too much magic because you’ll attract attention...but how did she get out? Theoretically, she just had to find another rift, but that meant traveling through the Fade’s equivalent of the Western Approach at least and hoping the Inquisitor hadn’t sealed the other ones up.

It’s all she has to work with, so she uses it.

 

-.-

 

Nightmare taunts her. His voice echoes in her mind alone, sowing doubt that she’s going the wrong direction. She ignores him and presses on, feeding her system mana to keep her energy up and her eyes open. Most times, she can avoid the demons and other Fade creatures. Confrontations are unavoidable though.

Sometime into the second day, she finds herself running at a full sprint to get away from a Pride Demon. Nightmare laughs in her mind. Her brain whirls, trying to decide if she should turn and fight, wasting precious mana on it, or keep running. Before she can decide, another one appears in front of her. She skids to a halt and spares a glance back only to see nothing at all as Nightmare laughs and when she looks forward again, there’s nothing but the empty expanse of the Fade. Something in her snaps.

She starts running and doesn’t stop.

 

-.-

 

They’d agreed to let Aveline do the talking. Of the five of them, she’s used to dealing with political talking heads and is better at keeping a level head. The Inquisition Ambassador, Josephine, opens the meeting room door and whatever polite words that were in her mind fly right out of her head when she meets the Inquisitor’s eyes.

She doesn’t get a chance to say any of them because Isabela vaults past her, leans over the table and yanks the Inquisitor forward by the front of her tunic. Cullen is the first to reach them but the Inquisitor holds up a hand. He frowns but stays back. Aveline notes with a bit of respect that like her, his hand stays on the hilt of his blade.

“This isn’t a negotiation,” Isabela says. “You’re going to fix this.”

“Isabela,” Aveline starts.

"Shut it! Fuck diplomacy, I want my wife back,” Isabela says. “So you’re going to take us to the nearest rift and help us get through and we’re going to bring her back.”

“There’s no guarantee she’s still alive,” Cullen says.

“Cullen, please,” the Inquisitor says. She grabs Isabela’s hand but instead of pushing her away, she holds it in her own. “I will do what I can to help you. I didn’t want to leave anyone at the time but none of us would have gotten out if we stayed.”

“So you sacrifice the person you know the least,” Fenris says.

“Alright, enough,” Aveline says. “Isabela, release the Inquisitor please.”

Isabela does, but only by shoving the woman back. To her credit, the Inquisitor doesn’t look the least bit phased.        

“What’s the likelihood of her survival?” Carver asks from Aveline’s side.

“You’re a Grey Warden,” the Inquisitor says as she pushes a lock of orange hair over a pointed ear. “I exiled them from southern Thedas.”

“And I’ll go as soon as I’ve exhausted all hope that the last of my family is alive,” Carver says, voice steady.

“You’ve matured,” Cullen says.

“Same could be said for you,” Carver says without looking at him. “So. What are the chances?”

“High,” a new voice says.

Aveline turns to watch another elf step into the room, closing the door behind him.

“I’m Solas,” he says. “I’m somewhat of an expert in the Fade and I was with the Inquisitor when we went into the Fade. The demon we were dealing with was Nightmare, a high-powered fear demon of which there is nothing close to in our history. It’s not often a physical meal must walk into his lair, so it’s likely he’s spent the last two weeks tormenting her to generate as much fear to feed on as it can. Your chances of finding her…that’s not as clear. The Fade is as vast as our world.”

“Comforting,” Fenris says.

“So how do we get there?” Isabela asks.

“The nearest Rift to Adamant is in the eastern most part of the Western Approach,” the Inquisitor says. “But I have no idea if you can enter through it. There was a lot of blood magic at Adamant which may have distorted the rift enough for us to get through.”

“Then good thing you have me,” Merrill says.

The temperature in the room seems to drop by several degrees.

“You brought a blood mage into Skyhold?” Cullen asks after a long moment.

“I don’t do it anymore! Or at least, I haven’t since I failed to make the Eluvian work…” Merrill says, voice shaking. Not for the first time, Aveline is grateful they kept Merrill out of Cullen’s sight in Kirkwall. “But if it’s to save Hawke I…I can…”

“And just how many would you sacrifice for that?” Cullen all but spits out.

“Only myself,” Merrill says. “It’s not my sacrifice if I take it from the other people.”

“This is getting us nowhere,” Fenris says. “Where’s the rift? We’ll handle this ourselves.”

“Varric has it on his map,” the Inquisitor says. “I recommend you don’t come back here after.”

“You’re going to let a blood mage just-“ Cullen starts.

“Cullen, stop,” the Inquisitor says. “You lot, go.”

Aveline grabs Isabela’s arm before the woman can do anything stupid and hauls her out of the room. Varric is waiting outside, Bianca in hand.

“Well,” he says. “What are you waiting for?”

 

-.-

 

Merrill doesn’t like the desert. It’s hot and makes her skin feel dry and tight. By the time they reach the rift, surrounded by demons, she’s almost relieved that she gets to get into the fade instead.

“So the way the Inquisitor does it, she destabilizes it repeatedly until it finally closes,” Varric says. “At least as far as I can tell. Think you can pull something like that off?”

“How will we know we can pass through it?” Carver asks.

“It sort of…expands,” Varric says. “That’s going to be our best bet to try and pass through.”

"Fantastic,” Fenris says.

“No one made you come,” Isabela snipes.

“Kids, we have a job to do,” Aveline says. “Merrill, you do what you must. The rest of us will keep the demons occupied. Varric, when you think we can pass through let us know.”

Merrill nods and climbs her way up a small rock bluff that keeps her out of the sight of the demons below as the rest head back down. She pulls a knife from her belt and slices it quick across her palm. She takes a deep breath, then another, and watches as her blood drips from her hand and then flows into the air before it reaches the ground, swirling around her with the energy she begins to gather. The rift feels like her Eluvian, or the way it should have felt. Instead of a sleeping power, it’s a roiling beast eager to swallow her whole. She feeds it her magic, her blood, twisting it into the tear. The pressure builds and suddenly, the portal rips itself open wide.

She watches her friends leap through. She won’t make it though herself, not from this far away, not when she can feel the rift fighting back against her will as it tries to snap shut on the intruders. IT wants to let the demons through and keep the rest out. Fenris is the last one through and once he’s vanished, she lets it go. The demons turn towards her.

“For Hawke,” she says, voice soft as she stands, staff in hand. She’d keep the path home clear for them, no matter what.

 

-.-

 

Fenris hated the Fade even when he visited in his dreams. Physically being there…it’s sort of his worst nightmare, the very air making his tattoos flare up with light and pain as the lyrium reacts to the unfiltered energy.

“Well, at least I can kind of tell where we are. That’s where the Adamant rift as,” Varric says, pointing to a larger mountain-like structure far off in the distance.

"More importantly, where’s Merrill?” Isabela asks.

"She was still up on the cliff ledge when I came through,” Fenris says.

“Shit, we have to-“

Carver grabs Isabela’s arm before she can jump back through. “Hold on. If you go through, we can’t guarantee you can get back. Merrill can handle herself.”

"The real question is how do we track Hawke,” Fenris says.

“You can’t.” The voice echoes around them and while his companions look around in confusion, Fenris freezes. It’s…Danarius’ voice. “A pack of warriors in the Fade, come to rescue a mage? What did you think you could do here? Are you so sure you won’t betray her again?”

“So that’s Nightmare,” Aveline says.

Fenris shakes his arms out, shoving away the instinctive fear that comes from hearing Danarius’ voice.

“Ignore him. We find Hawke,” Varric says.

"I’ll take point,” Carver says. “I’ve got a little more experience than the rest of you with demons. Varric, you watch the back.”

None of them bring up that Nightmare is right. What could a bunch of warriors and rogues do in the Fade?

 

-.-

 

Carver hates magic and he hates the Fade, but he’s worked with Alistair and countless mages in the Wardens so navigating the Fade isn’t as hard as he thought it would be. Besides, he was trained to run just like his sister was. He examines the landscape, searching for any cave opening or drip. When he locates one, tucked into the corner of two cliff faces, he heads there, keeping his hand on the hilt of his axe.

“Just a boy playing at being a man.” Nightmare’s voice echoes around them and for him, it sounds just like Malcolm. “Always in the shadows, trying to be your own man but always falling short even now. You couldn’t save your sister, your mother, and now you’ve lost the only one who ever mattered.”

“Carver,” Aveline says from somewhere behind him.

"I know, don’t listen to it,” he says.

He slips into the cave. Veilfire dances in torches on the wall, either a trick of the Fade or a sign that his instincts had been right and Hawke was somewhere below ground. Nightmare wasn’t far off, but it was hardly a secret that his biggest fear was never being able to live up to Hawke’s living legacy, or that he wouldn’t be able to save those he loved. Hearing it spelled out doesn’t scare him. It just makes him angry.

“So do you have some sort of weird sibling honing beacon?” Varric asks. “You seem pretty confident that we’re going the right way.”

“We spent our whole lives on the run,” Carver says. “A family full of apostates can’t exactly settle down. Our father taught all of us how to run and hide and we spent a fair share of our time going through old mountain tunnels and half collapsed mines to avoid the main roads. If she’s thinking clearly, this is where she’ll have gone.”

“And if she’s not thinking clearly?” Isabela asks.

“Then she’s dead and Nightmare will eat us before we leave,” Carver says, tone brittle.

“Charming. You know everyone always talks about marriage being great because the family grows but I’m not so sure how I feel about you being my brother in law,” Isabela says, and the words are light and teasing but he can hear the near hysterical edge to her voice.

“Well we can’t all have nice things now can we?” he asks.

 

-.-

 

Varric knew it was unlikely they’d find Hawke before they had to make camp or collapse from exhaustion. Still, it’s demoralizing. Nightmare talks to them each in turn, well, all of them except him. It doesn’t mean he’s free of torment.

He hears the red lyrium singing instead.

He knows, hopes, it’s an illusion. There’s no red lyrium here that he can see, but he knows from Bertrand that even when it’s nowhere nearby it can speak to you.

“You doing okay?” Aveline asks as she settles in next to him and passes over a ration protein bar.

“Just that Nightmare demon missing with my head,” he says.

Aveline frowns as she chews her food. “Hm. Me as well. He keeps whispering in my head. He sounds just like Wesley which is…disconcerting to say the least.”

“What does he say?” Varric asks.

Aveline smiles. “Turns out Carver and I have the same fear – losing Hawke because we aren’t strong enough.”

“I’m gonna punch this demon in the face so hard,” Isabela says from where she lays, head cushioned in Fenris’ lap. “He’s a dick.”

“Demons don’t have genders,” Carver says.

“He’s right,” Fenris says. “Sometimes it sounds like Danarius and other times Hadriana.”

“Why aren’t we dead though? That’s what I want to know,” Aveline says.

"The first time we were here, it let us do what we wanted until we tried to leave,” Varric says. “We likely won’t have to fight it until we try to get out. For now…we’re scared for our friend. I’m sure he’s having quite the feast.”

“So stop being scared for Hawke,” Carver says, and when Varric looks over at him he’s glaring at them. “She’s fine. Maker, you all spent years with her and you think this is enough to take her out?”

"Are you saying you’re not afraid?” Fenris asks.

“I was but now I’m just pissed,” Carver says. “Hawke isn’t going to let some demon get the best of her. Doesn’t matter how big he is.”

“You lash out like all the others,” Nightmare says. “But it doesn’t change what’s in your heart.”

"How about you come down here and give me something to be afraid of then?” Carver shouts, getting to his feet.

“Ah, Jeeze, kid,” Varric says, getting up and grabbing Bianca. “You can’t just taunt a demon when you’re in the Fade, he’s going to send monsters after us.”

“Yeah, and then Hawke will come,” Carver says.

“Have you lost your mind?” Fenris asks, even as he takes up position at the far end of their small cavern camp near the tunnel.

"Not at all,” Carver says, pulling Aveline to her feet. “What’s one thing Hawke always does?”

Isabela looks at Varric, eyes widening. “She saves the day.”

“Always,” Carver says. The skittering of spider claws echoes around them, followed by the roar of a Pride Demon. “No matter how unlikely, she always shows up and saves the day. We approached this all wrong.”

Varric steadies Bianca and fires a shot over Fenris’ shoulder to nail one of the giant spiders to the wall. Fenris’ skin flares to life and he phases into the next creature, ripping it apart from the inside out as Isabela vanishes from view and further into the tunnel.

“We came here trying to save her!” Carver shouts as Aveline gives a war cry and charges down the opposite tunnel. “Hawke doesn’t need to be saved. She saves herself, and then she saves everyone else.”

It’s a heartwarming speech. Varric considers himself a bit of a cynic, but even as the hoards of demons Nightmare sent to put them in their place pushes them together in a tight ring, an odd feeling possesses him. Hope. Hope that in their darkest moment, Hawke will show up. He reloads Bianca and grits his teeth. He’ll hold onto that hope until Hawke comes or he’s good and dead.

 

-.-

 

Isabela falls to her knees as the last demon evaporates, arms trembling from exhaustion. Fenris shoves a stamina drought into her hands and she nearly drops it so he holds her wrist steady as she gulps it down. She can hear Aveline gasping in huge lungful of air. It appeared Varric was right. This Nightmare creature had no intention of letting them die, not truly.

She revises that thought as another Pride Demon emerges from the far tunnel. Fenris snarls out something unintelligible as he staggers upright and she knows she needs to get up and fight but she _can’t_. It’s too much.

A white circle appears beneath the demon before ice shoots up, encasing it completely. Her heart jumps to her throat. An arrow whizzes over her shoulder and buries itself in the head of the iced over demon and the whole structure shatters apart to reveal Hawke leaning on her staff. Fenris reaches her just in time to catch her as she collapses. Adrenaline pumps through Isabela enough to get her to her feet and over to them, stumbling back down and brushing Hawke’s hair back from her face.

"I’m alive, just tired,” Hawke says, face turning into Isabela’s touch. She turns Isabela’s hand wet with tears. “I’ve been so scared…”

“We’re here now,” Fenris says, helping Hawke sit up so she can throw her arms around Isabela.

Isabela almost falls back, but Aveline moves behind her and offers her leg as a support. She meets Carver’s eyes over Hawke’s shoulder and nods, both in thanks and in an acknowledgment that he was the one that did this. The man could use a little recognition. Besides, they had Hawke now. The real fight would start when they tried to leave.

 

-.-

 

Hawke wakes up with her face mashed into Carver’s neck and her arms looped over his shoulders. She vaguely remembers drinking down three lyrium potions and another elfroot one before Carver urged her up onto his back so he could carry her. After that well…apparently she’d slept.

“Thank you,” she rasps, throat aching.

“I’m your fucking brother, you don’t have to thank me,” he says, and the annoyance in his voice is what convinces her this isn’t some delusion Nightmare has conjured up. “The Grey Wardens were exiled.”

"Probably for the best until Corypheus is dealt with. The Calling…do you hear it?”

Carver shakes his head. “You got me far enough away with Aveline. No one in northern Thedas has heard it.”

Hawke hugs him closer. “Good.”

“Hope you’re done talking,” Varric calls back to them. “We’ve got incoming.”

Hawke looks up. The rift is in the distance, but between them and it dark mist begins to swirl as Nightmare starts to take shape.

“Run!” she screams.

“It’s too late,” Fenris says. “We have to fight it.”

The ground trembles as the giant spider legs materialize and sink into the ground. She pushes at Carver until he lets her down and grabs her staff from off her back, taking note of her fear before shoving it away. She’d sacrificed herself so others could live, and now, all the people she cared about were here ready to do the same and…she wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Alright fine, we fight, but we’re getting out alive,” she says.

"Damn straight,” Isabela says.

Behind Nightmare, the rift flares to life. The next moment, deep red mist, the tell tale sign of blood magic, swirls around Nightmare and wraps like chains to hold it tight. No one needs to say a word then. No one needs to say a word then. They run, ducking under the tower like limbs and hairy underbelly to the rift beyond. Merrill stands there, wounds covering her arms and a blood soaked bandage wrapped around her middle as she holds out one hand towards Nightmare.

“Kitten!” Isabela says as they reach her. “What have you done?”

“What I had to,” she says. “Now go, one at a time! I can’t keep the rift open enough for us to get through for long, we don’t have time to talk.”

Aveline doesn’t hesitate, shoving Varric through and then Fenris.

"Merrill, you’re coming with us right?” Hawke asks as Nightmare begins to screech.

Merrill gives her a weak smile. “Of course. I came this far. Now hurry, I can’t hold him forever.”

Carver goes next and after a beat of hesitation, Aveline follows. Hawke squeezes Merrill’s hand tight.

“Right behind me, okay?”

“I’m not hanging around with this thing, I promise!”

Hawke flings herself through the rift and lands in the sand. She gets to her feet quick, already preparing a healing spell, ignoring the voices behind her as she keeps her eyes on the rift. Time passes, seconds stretching into a minute. She can hear Aveline shouting. A voice she remembers from before, Solas perhaps, responds.

“She’s trying but it hurts. She thinks she can kill it for good if she gives a bit more, she’s been working so hard to be strong, but she’ll die. If she doesn’t though, this creature will continue to exist,” Cole says from just behind her.

She whirls to look at him. “You can feel her? Can you tell her to come back?”

Cole shakes his head. “Heart pounding, blood spilling between her finger tips, she’s dying anyways at least this way it can mean something-“

Hawke turns away and then…shoves her hand into the rift. It hurts, burns more like it, but she’s got her hand wrapped around some fabric now so she yanks hard and then she and Merrill tumble back into the sand. She doesn’t hesitate, rolling Merrill onto her back and getting her glowing hands to Merrill’s stomach to start trying to heal her.

“You idiot,” she hisses, grabbing her staff so she can better channel her energy. “You’re not dying for me, or any of us.”

“I was just trying to do what was right,” Merrill gasps out, eyes squeezing shut as her flesh begins to knit together. “The wound on my stomach wasn’t intentional, it was some weird Fade creature.”

“We’re closing the rift!” Carver shouts.

“Shield!” Hawke yells back. She knows she can’t spare any magic for a barrier, not when she’s holding Merrill’s life in her hands.

Carver throws his shield and she catches it with one hand to cover herself and Merrill just in time for the Inquisitor to reach out her magical hand and seal the rift. The shield protects them from the worst of the scattered rock and energy. Hawke tosses the shield aside a moment later to continue her work. Merrill’s skin already looks a little less pale.

“Please, allow me,” Solas says, kneeling beside her. “You must be exhausted if you’ve been fighting Nightmare this whole time.”

“I’m not that brave. I’ve been running,” she says.

Solas offers something close to a smile before turning to Merrill and saying quick words in elven. Hawke takes that as her cue to leave. She approaches the group gathered a little ways away, surprised that only the Inquisitor was there.

“So,” she says. “I take it my rescue party was not completing an Inquisition-sanctioned mission?”

“No,” the Inquisitor says. “We might have been able to until Merrill mentioned her habit.”

“Ah yes,” Hawke says. “Well that habit is why we’re alive.”

“You wouldn’t have done a damn thing for Hawke and you know it. Don’t hide behind some fake fear of blood magic,” Aveline says. “Hawke nearly died for you-“

“I know, and people die for me and our cause every day,” the Inquisitor says. “I can’t divert resources, especially on something as risky as this.”

“So the people you brought with you,” Hawke says but pauses when the Inquisitor frowns.

“I only brought Solas,” she says.

“But Cole, he warned me about Merrill,” Hawke says.

"Oh, he does that,” Varric says. “He’s probably lurking around making sure she’s okay, we just can’t see him. Forgot you aren’t used to him.”

“Anyways,” the Inquisitor says. “I was going to come alone but Solas insisted on joining. He has nothing against blood magic. He was also intrigued by something Merrill said back at Skyhold though he won’t tell me what.”

“Well thanks,” Aveline says. “We’ll be leaving now.”

“The Inquisition would have you, if you could,” the Inquisitor says.

“How dare-“ Isabela starts, but she doesn’t get very far because Fenris shoves her back so he can stand toe to toe with the Inquisitor instead.

“You left Hawke to die, then left the rest of us to die because you don’t like the most capable person among us,” he says. “We won’t fight for you, none of us will.”

“Fenris, you don’t even like Merrill,” Hawke says.

His eyes narrow and he steps back. “Well yes but…we would be dead if it weren’t for her and she didn’t hurt anyone else with her magic even with everything she cared about on the line.”

Hawke raises an eyebrow but this wasn’t the place for that particular discussion. “Thank you for coming Inquisitor, but I think it’s clear we should take our leave.”

“I understand,” the Inquisitor says.

“I’ll be staying if it’s just the same,” Varric says, meeting Hawke’s eyes. “You understand.”

“Of course,” Hawke says. “Corypheus is still a threat. I’ll rejoin Alistair wherever it is you exiled him too and we’ll see how we can help from there.”

“Thank you. For saving us originally,” the Inquisitor says. “I didn’t get a chance to say it then.”

“Pardon the interruption,” Solas says as he walks over with Merrill in his arms. “She needs rest but she’ll be fine. The woman has an amazing reserve of mana to hold the demons off and then hold Nightmare as long as she did. Keep her close.”

Fenris steps over and takes her from Solas. Merrill, in a testament to her exhaustion, wraps her arms around his neck and curls in close to his chest.

“Good luck,” Hawke says to Varric.

“Thanks. I’ll need it.”

 

-.-

 

Hawke holds it together until they make camp. Carver’s taking watch to the North, Aveline to the south, and Isabela taking a loop between them. She’s cutting up meat to drop into the pan over the fire when it hits her. Her hands start to shake. She almost slices her finger open and with a curse, drops everything on a nearby blanket and lurches to her feet. Fenris takes it up without a word and finishes up her work while she paces in front of the fire. It isn’t until a drop hits her hand that she realizes she’s crying.

Fenris watches her with the expression he thinks is unreadable but she knows means he feels helpless. She wipes angrily at her eyes and sits down again across the fire. She shoves her hands in her lap and tangles her fingers together so at least the trembling won’t be so visible.

“So Merrill,” Hawke says, not wanting to discuss the memories of her time in the Fade.

“Yes,” Fenris says.

"You’ve always hated her. You’re cruel to her,” Hawke says.

Fenris glances towards the tent Merrill’s sleeping in, frowning. “Yes, I have been. But I’ve been thinking a lot about…my views…ever since we got on Isabela’s ship to track you down. You risked everything for people you barely knew.”

“I did the same in Kirkwall,” Hawke says.

“No, Kirkwall was home even if you didn’t know everyone,” he says. “And then Merrill…she told me on the ship that she hasn’t done blood magic since that day we were forced to murder her clan. She said she hadn’t meant to sacrifice anyone for what she did, only herself. I didn’t care then, because it doesn’t matter what a mage’s intentions, what matters are the results. But then she said it again at Skyhold and she kept her word, even at the risk of losing us all.”

“That’s great to hear,” Hawke says, the happiness at the potential of Fenris and Merrill actually being friends chasing away some of her nerves. “You owe her one heck of an apology though. Maybe even dinner.”

Fenris winces. “I’m aware. I haven’t had the greatest of behaviors since gaining my freedom, and I've had years to adjust. It will take more than an apology. Now…what about you? What’s making you shaking like that?”

“Or we could keep talking about you,” Hawke says.

“Sure,” Fenris says, pushing the meat around in the pan as it cooks. “But I don’t think that’s what you actually want to talk about.”

“No, I suppose not,” Hawke says, resting her chin on her knee. “Nightmare he…it…whatever. He messed with me. There’s a whole week there where I don’t remember much of anything outside being scared. I’m having trouble believing any of this is real.”

“I suppose my change of behavior didn’t help,” Fenris says.

“Yeah, but no one could ever mimic Carver’s particular tone of annoyance when he talks to me,” Hawke says with a smile. “I suppose it will be awhile before I stop panicking that this is all some delusion though. The Fade…I don’t even want to sleep.”

“I get it. But you have us now,” Fenris says. “We all leaned on you for years. It’s okay if you lean back.”

“That smells delicious,” Isabela says, plopping down in the sand behind Hawke and coaxing her to lean back into her arms. Hawke tucks her face into Isabela’s neck. The simple act calms the racing of her heart. “So, I know the world is ending and everything but I was thinking we take a vacation to that Grey Warden castle place and drop off your brother.”

“Just get me out of Thedas,” Hawke says.

Isabela squeezes her tighter. “Got it.” 


End file.
